


Civil Servant

by gmariam



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Gen, Ianto's Family, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-06 08:59:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11597352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gmariam/pseuds/gmariam
Summary: As Ianto stands at his mother's grave, he thinks about the past and confesses the true nature of his job.





	Civil Servant

Civil Servant

Ianto stood alone under cool, grey skies, gazing down at the gravestone before him. It had been a long day, a long week—a long nine months since he'd first learned of his mother's illness. And yet still too short. He felt like he'd finally reconnected with her only to lose her. There was so much he still wanted to tell her, share with her, and now he never could.

The funeral had gone as well as could be expected that morning. He'd been reluctant to tell the others, but he'd been away from the Hub for days, spending time at the hospital, and he owed them the truth. They'd all wanted to come, especially Jack, but Ianto had insisted on going alone. He'd kept his personal life—family and a few friends—strictly separate from his work life since the day he'd come back to Cardiff, and he wanted to keep it that way. It was easier, though Jack…Jack made it difficult, being a part of both.

Jack had been disappointed, even vaguely upset that Ianto wanted to go alone, without any support, but Ianto wasn't ready to do something like this with Jack. Funerals were difficult places, leaving one vulnerable and exposed in front of friends, family, and even strangers. For the most part, Ianto could put on his best suit and done the mask of a grieving but emotionally distant son with the other funeral-goers. But with Jack, and the others…they'd see through him, even Owen, and Ianto didn't want them to see him like that. He'd made sure they never saw him like that after the night Lisa had died.

He'd gone to the funeral and luncheon with his family—Rhi, Johnny, and the kids, a few aunts, uncles and cousins he hadn't seen for years. It had been difficult for Ianto, fending off question after question about his job and his dead girlfriend—old aunts asking if he'd met anyone new, uncles asking after his work.

Ianto had always been a private person, had always hated questions of a personal nature. A day spent with nosey relatives was exhausting, because he couldn't answer a single question honestly—unless it was his thoughts on the Six Nations cup and Wales's Grand Slam, four months gone. As he'd spent countless hours watching the series with Gwen at the Hub, at least he had something to talk about.

Now he was by himself, away from the questions and sympathetic platitudes, physically exhausted and emotionally drained. He gazed down at his mother's grave, then to his father's, and realized he was well and truly alone in the world. Sure, Rhi was still around, still insisted she was there for him, but it wasn't the same. For all the problems he'd had growing up, these were his parents before him, and now they were gone. And they had died without ever knowing anything about who he really was, the man he had become.

"I'm sorry," he murmured to the ground, then glanced at the sky and blinked tears from his eyes. "I'm sorry I let you down, because I know I did. You thought I'd never amount to anything, and assumed I didn't because I couldn't tell you otherwise. I told you I was civil servant in London, nothing more, and that I transferred to Cardiff to do the same." He sniffed, ran a hand across his face, and kicked at a few leaves on the ground. "Only I think I'm more, and I'm sorry I couldn't tell you. I don't know if it would have made a difference, though. I don't know if there's anything I could have done to make you proud."

One would think defending the city from aliens, protecting the timeline, and saving the world on a regular basis would qualify, but Ianto wasn't sure. His father probably would have criticized him for daring to make something of himself—for leaving the estate and thinking he could be more than them. He'd probably scoff at the idea of Ianto facing a Dalek at Canary Wharf, of chasing Weevils through the sewers of Cardiff, of saving the city from a nuclear holocaust.

In a way, it was insane: Ianto Jones, estate kid, the skinny loser who didn't do much at school except get arrested for shoplifting. How could he possibly be important enough to have the ear of the Queen?

And his mum…god, he'd wanted to tell her so badly at the end. She worried about him constantly—about his job, his love life, everything. It was as if she didn't think he could take care of himself, let alone a team of five. She would have laughed at the idea of Ianto taking care of Cardiff—of his connections to the police, to the mayor, to the monarchy. Knowing he carried a SIg Sauer and could take down a rampaging alien with it would have left her in disbelief, then worried sick. Yet he wanted to think that of the two of them, at least his mum would have been proud. Now he'd never know.

"You are much more," said a quiet voice behind him. "And she would have been so proud."

Ianto sighed. Of course Jack had found him, probably by tracking his mobile, or his car, or possibly both. Ianto hadn't checked in all day, and if something had happened, he could have very well missed it. He hoped that nothing had gone wrong in his absence, but did not feel the need to apologize.

"You don't know that," Ianto replied. "You didn't know her."

Jack came to stand beside him, shoulder to shoulder. Ianto wanted to step away from the sudden invasion of his space, but didn't; maybe he could let Jack in, just a little.

"I know you," Jack replied.

"And I'm nothing like them," Ianto snapped, before taking a deep breath so he didn't continue in anger. "Or I'd like to think so."

"Why?" Jack asked. "Were they so bad?"

Ianto toed the ground, kicking the leaves around before he answered.

"My mum…no, she wasn't. She was just trying to take care of her family. It wasn't easy, with my dad…" He trailed off, memories of childhood rushing back, most of them disappointing. He knew he should focus more on the good things, but sometimes it was hard to remember them.

"He died, what? About seven years ago?"

Apparently Jack had looked it up; he'd probably tried to find out as much as possible about Ianto's family, because Ianto rarely talked about them, and now another had passed away.

"He was a typical dad of his time and place," Ianto replied. "Expected too much, pushed too much, drank too much." He swallowed and tucked his hands into his pockets. "Never had a good word for anyone, really, not even his own kids. Rhi always forgave him for it, but me…I pushed back. We never got along, even at the end."

"And your mum?" Jack asked.

"She tried, she really did," Ianto replied with a shrug. "But she was resigned to it. She was skeptical of the world, and of people, and perhaps a bit cynical as well."

Jack glanced sideways and smiled. "So that's where you get it."

Ianto huffed. "I'm not cynical," he said. "Not like her, anyway."

"No, you're not—slightly sarcastic, but not cynical." Jack was quiet for a moment "You don't sound like them," he said. "You're much more than them."

Ianto stared at the gravestone before turning abruptly and walking away. "I wish I was, but sometimes I think I'm only telling myself that because I'm not."

Jack reached for his hand and pulled him to a stop under a large tree. The breeze had picked up and a few leaves fell around them. "Ianto! You are so much more than a civil servant." Ianto's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"How long were you standing there?" he demanded.

"Long enough," Jack replied. "That's what you told them, right? That you were a civil servant, nothing more?"

"It was the general cover in London," Ianto replied. "And true, in a way. It seemed easiest to continue it when I moved here."

"You could have told them anything—civil service, tourism, tech company. Even special ops, like Gwen."

Ianto snorted. "Special ops? Gwen uses the special ops cover because she was on the police force. It makes sense, and even more, it makes her look important. Special."

"You're important," Jack replied. "Special."

"Maybe," Ianto replied, waving him away and continuing toward his car. "But no one would have believed me if I'd told them I was special ops. And I don't like the attention, the awe factor. Gwen does."

"You like working behind the scenes," Jack guessed.

"Always have, always will," Ianto returned. "And I don't want to go into the deep psychological reasons for wanting to remain unseen, unknown. In the end, I know it's just as important as the people on the front lines, even if it doesn't always feel like it. But my parents would have never understood, not in a million years."

"Why not?" Jack asked, sounding genuinely curious.

"Because they were a product of their upbringing, and I should have been a product of mine," Ianto said. "Which would have meant kicking around the estate after school, getting into trouble, eventually settling down with some dead-end job, knocking someone up, and renting a cheap flat down the street. That was what they expected from me, nothing more, and sometimes I feel like I let them down by escaping that fate."

They'd reached the cars, and Jack leaned against the SUV, studying him thoughtfully. "That's ridiculous," he said. "Who would want that for their kids?"

"I don't know!" Ianto exclaimed. "I never said it made sense. It is what it is, it's what I came from. Why do you think I never talk about it? I don't want that life—I never did. That's why I left home the moment I could."

"I still think she would have been proud of you," Jack said. He reached out and pulled Ianto toward him. "I know I am."

Ianto glanced around the area to see if anyone was watching, but it was getting late and the street was quiet and empty. So he let Jack wrap strong arms around his waist, and offered a raised eyebrow in curiosity. "Why in the world are you proud of me?"

"For staying strong," Jack replied. "For setting out to make a better life for yourself. For being a good son."

Ianto rolled his eyes at Jack's turn toward sentiment. "I'm no different than any other son in Wales. They'd probably tell you I was less."

"You're much more," Jack insisted again. "You're Torchwood. And that is something  _you_  should be proud of."

"What, that I manage to ruin at least one shirt a week wrangling aliens? That I've seen dead people come back to life and met time travelers from the past and the future? That I've had tea with the Queen?"

Jack glanced at him in surprise. "When did you do that?" he asked.

"While you were gone," Ianto replied. He grinned. "I suppose it is a rather illustrious achievement."

"Damn right it is," Jack laughed. "Plus you manage to keep us organized and in line—that's definitely something to be proud of. Not many people could do that."

"All it takes is decent coffee and a few biscuits," Ianto grinned with him now. "It's hard work, but someone has to do it."

"I'm glad it's you," Jack murmured, leaning forward as if to kiss him. "I couldn't imagine Torchwood without you."

"Dark, dank, dirty, and disorganized," Ianto replied.

"Your mum would be proud of what you've done," Jack said once more. "I'm sorry she's gone."

"I'm sorry she'll never know," Ianto replied. Jack pulled him into a hug, running his hands up and down Jack's back.

"Have you told your sister?" Jack asked. Ianto stepped back with a look of horror.

"Are you joking? Tell Rhi I work for Torchwood?"

"Maybe start with special ops?" Jack suggested. "Get out of the civil service first?"

"She's like mum, she'd never believe me. And Johnny would take the piss, assume I'm the janitor or something." He paused. "Which I am."

"No, you're not," Jack said. "You are Ianto Jones, Torchwood Agent extraordinaire. You protect the planet from a rift in time and space and all the dangers that brings. And you are  _brilliant_  at it."

Ianto was too tired to argue anymore. "I try my best, sir," he murmured. Jack growled.

"Don't call me sir unless you mean it."

"Jack…"

Jack nodded in understanding. "Are you hungry?" he asked, changing the subject. "Want to get something to eat?"

"Not particularly," Ianto replied. "I think I want to go home and put this day behind me."

"Want some company, then?" Jack asked. "We can put on your favorite movie, eat ice cream, comb each other's hair…"

Ianto laughed in spite of himself. "I don't have any ice cream and I'm not combing your hair," he said. "But yeah…I suppose company would be nice. And maybe a movie."

Jack kissed him then, before turning back toward the SUV. "Meet you back at yours?" he asked, sounding unsure.

"Yeah, I'll be there in a few." He tossed Jack the key to his flat. "One last goodbye." He gestured toward the cemetery. Jack nodded in understanding and stepped into the SUV. He waved as he pulled away, leaving Ianto on his own once more.

Ianto walked back up to the grave. The wind had picked up and blew the leaves around the ground in eddies and swirls. He felt like he was standing at the end of an old black and white movie and glanced around to make sure no one was watching—or filming. Sitting back on his heels, he tossed a few pieces of grass on the ground about before finally settling on what he wanted to say.

"I am more," he began. "You may not have wanted it, may not believe it, but I'm more than I ever thought I would be, when I left. I have seen things, and done things, that you couldn't imagine, and it has been…amazing." He dropped his head, gathered his courage, and continued.

"I work for Torchwood, mum. That crazy group running around with the black SUV, taking over crime scenes whenever something funny happens. It's not quite the civil service, more like special ops, although I will never admit to using that term." He laughed at himself, shook his head. "We protect the city from aliens, mum. I have seen beings from other worlds, from other times. They're real, and they're here, and sometimes they're dangerous. And that's my job, to protect people from the bad ones, and a lot of other incredible things."

He smiled as he imagined her response. "Now that you're done rolling your eyes, or maybe even laughing, you'll probably start worrying. But I'm okay, mum. I wasn't, not for a long time. I actually joined Torchwood back in London, and it was great, until it all went wrong when Lisa died." He took a deep breath. "Sometimes I'm not sure why I'm still here, still with Torchwood, but I think it's because I can do this. It's important, and I can make a difference. I work with good people, and most of the time I'm fairly confident the world won't end on our watch."

He stood and gazed into the distance, working up to one last confession. "Speaking of those people, mum…I'm seeing one of them. Dating. It's good, it's…well, it's casual right now. I don't know what will happen, if it will even last that long, but right now…right now, it's good." Glancing up at the sky, Ianto took the final step. "He's a man, mum, and his name is Jack. He's my boss, and he's immortal, and he's one of the most complicated, amazing people I've ever known. But it's good, really good, so you don't need to be shocked or worried or anything. I almost wish you could have met him."

Ianto stepped forward and laid his hand on top of the stone marker. "I hope you're proud, mum. I've made something of my life. I only wish you were still here to see it. I miss you already."

Swallowing thickly, Ianto turned and hurried back to his car. Slamming the door shut, he laid his head on the steering wheel, taking deep breaths to calm his racing heart. He unexpectedly found himself thinking about the good times with his family, and his mother, of the last days he'd been able to spend with her before she'd passed. He was glad to realize that he had such memories. A text alert from Jack dragged him back to the present and kept him from getting lost in the past.

_Rift alert! Time to save the world!_

With a nod and a smile, Ianto replied before starting his car. He might still be mourning his mother, but he was also needed. Because was more. He was not just a civil servant, or special ops, he was Torchwood. And he was with Jack. Together they would protect the city from whatever the Rift threw at them. It was important, it was good, and Ianto was damn proud of what he did.

  


 

**Author's Note:**

> I was wondering about the difference between Gwen's special ops cover and Ianto's civil servant cover and thought I'd try writing about it. From comments throughout the series and EU, I've drawn some conclusions about Ianto's early life that may or may not be true. Thank you for reading!


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